British People Gassing Stadiums
by TarTarIcing
Summary: In the backdrop of current events, James "Smoke" Porter stumbles through his feelings for a certain Scottish teammate.


Disclaimer: I don't own Rainbow Six Siege. Sorry for the degeneracy.

* * *

"SOLEIMANI IS DEAAAD! OOOOOOOOORRAAAAAAAAAAH!"

The sports reporter at MSMBS blew a horn and spun a noisemaker. He had slicked back hair and was thin. The reporter beside him had his head in his hands. He was a red-head who was built huskier than the other.

"Tony, no…" He sighed.

"Oorah! Iran is somewhat safer now!" Tony put down the horn and noisemaker, "Back to you, Nigel."

"US forces have confirmed the death, as it was silent," Nigel continued, slouching forward. His hands went back to the table, facing forward at the camera, stern. "Here with the weather is Aruna."

"Hello, Nigel, today it's sunny…"

Smoke slouched forward in his seat in the mess hall. Could it be another war on the horizon? He knew sarin gas and acid were commonplace in the Middle East. He mused, another opportunity to shine with his gas grenades. Tracing crop circles in his government mashed potatoes, he can't help but have his mind wander.

The cafeteria was a cacophony of voices, smells, and sounds. With the death of Soleimani filling the atmosphere with dread and concern, people quieted down. The Americans whispered amongst themselves, with Ash muttering something about Israel. Maverick let out a sigh, muttering to himself that it was the only wise choice, but another war wasn't necessary. Nomad mournfully gazed at her mashed potatoes next to him. Castle tried to make a joke about the reporters Tony and Nigel dating, but it fell on deaf ears.

Dokkaebi pressed her chest on Thatcher's back, playfully giggling at the old man's distaste of the delivery of the news.

"It ain't bloody funny, it's bloody distasteful."

"He screwed over a lotta women though," Dokkaebi stuck her tongue out and leapt on her merry way.

Smoke looked at the old man's exhausted face, and then looked at the empty spot between Thatcher and Mute. Mute was reading a book and picking at his broccoli. He then looked at the depressed Gridlock and Mozzie, who were lamenting over the fires in their homeland.

"Lozza okay?" Gridlock put a hand on Mozzie's. He'd been texting incessantly.

"She's healthy, just at her parents," Mozzie sighed, "But shit, she hasn't replied." He put his head in his hands.

"Don't worry, she's a strong woman."

The Spetznaz were discussing the merits of fighting in the Middle East again. Kapkan complained that hunting was borderline impossible. Fuze complained of the heat. Finka just didn't want another war. The Germans and the French were trying to carry on like they have never heard it. Echo tried to flirt with Ying, but she walked away.

Kali and Wamai were playing cards, smirking at the profit this possible war might bring.

As much as he tried, James couldn't filter out the cafeteria noise. The only thing he could focus was that empty spot between Mike and Mute. He made a circular divot in his mashed potatoes.

"Oi, you fine mate?" Mute looked up from his book to see a zoned-out James in front of him.

"…Yes. Y-yeah," Smoke snapped back to reality, "Just processing Soleimani's death."

"There's nothing to process. Soleimani was a shit."

"There's still a lot in the Middle East to process."

"It's Seamus, isn't it?"

"Fuck off," Smoke scooped the mashed potatoes in his mouth. Mute gave a smirk and kept reading, "That's right, read your fucking CAD catalogue." Thatcher raised his eyebrows at both of them.

Hours later…

The SAS went into the stadium. It was newly crafted under Harry's authority. It was the faction's turn on the stadium, sent against the Spetsnaz. The SAS were the defending team and the Spetsnaz were the attacking team.

Mute set his jammers at key points and Smoke set his grenades against a choke point. Thatcher roamed around the "objective" while Sledge hid behind the main entrance.

Harry held out a stopwatch, counting down," Five!"

"Four!" Smoke nestled himself into a corner.

"Three!" Fuze held out his cluster "charge". All bullets were rubber for this exercise.

"Two!"

"One!" Harry blew the whistle and the Russians burst through the door. Sledge burst forward to parry with Tachanka. Fuze put his gadget away and threw a flashbang down the hall. This disoriented Mute, leaving him spinning around and falling. Sledge was still fighting with Tachanka and his hunting knife. The Russian man knocked the caber out of the Scot's hand and punched him. Kapkan then sprinted past forward to get a few shots on Smoke.

Smoke turned his gas grenade on panic, causing Kapkan to cough and fall over. He gave some shots back. Glaz then used an opening from above to knock the cardboard "objective" over.

"Shit!" Thatcher burst into the door.

"Round one over, Spetznaz wins!" Harry announced. All teams brushed themselves off and they went back to their starting positions. "Round two, ready!"

"New round, new tactics, let's go," Thatcher ended the huddle and dispersed again.

The second round was slightly better. Slightly. Thatcher was able to converge on both Glaz and Kapkan and tag them out. Sledge knocked back Fuze and Smoke caught Tachanka in the gas and a kick in the stomach. Fuze wiggled back and rolled towards the objective. Mute tried to intercept but was pinned down and the objective fell over.

"Round two, Spetznaz wins again! Round three, begin!"

"We need to be cognizant!" Thatcher reminded.

"We need to be more mobile!" Sledge countered, "I can't handle Alex by myself."

"Alright, let's mobilize more." They all agreed.

The third round was an absolute disaster. All the Spetznaz save Tachanka charged on Sledge and Thatcher, disabling them. Smoke tried to help with a gas grenade but was too late. Mute was by himself with Tachanka.

"Round three, Spetznaz wins three to zero! Round four, switch places." Everyone switched at Harry's word. "Victory is at four!"

"What the fuck are we doing?" Sledge looked around and then at his team, "We're getting flanked, pushed around, and pinned down. We need to change!"

"I've been doing my best. They don't have the latest technology so I'm useless," Thatcher added.

"I had to just fight with Tachanka myself," Mute complained, "This is ridiculous."

"We have to stick together!" Smoke ran his hands through his hair, "They keep converging on us."

"And lose spread?" Sledge replied, "Glaz is all sitting pretty with his rifle. One of us must cover him. He could all take us out if we don't do something!"

"What spread? We can't muck around when it's some pill box for an objective!"

"It's still 3 stories!"

"Can it both of you, the next round is starting!" Thatcher shushed them. They team then readied themselves.

The fourth round Smoke touched Sledge's shoulder and Sledge gave a nod. They both saw Tachanka and cornered him.

"Blyat!" Tachanka yelled as he got shot. They then found a stray Fuze and cornered him too. Smoke put multiple gas grenades on the walls and activated them all. Thatcher made his way past and threw an EMP grenade through the door. This disabled Kapkan's device and he burst through it. For good measure, he threw another one and disabled another ED MKII device. He saw Kapkan squatting in the corner and he pinned him down. Mute followed and knocked down the objective.

"Round four, SAS finally win!"

"See?" Smoke looked at the base, "If we group up, we get somewhere." Sledge gave him a curt harrumph.

"I see your point," Thatcher shrugged his shoulders, "Let's do this!"

Round five came and went, with the SAS getting faster and smoother. They nabbed another victory by again grouping up on the Spetsnaz. Even if most of them collapsed under Smoke's gas grenades.

"Three to two, is this a turnaround?" Harry looked at the scoreboard, "Let's keep going!"

Unfortunately, the Russians saw what they were doing and grouped up against them. With Tachanka on their side, the SAS were all gone but Smoke. Smoke pulled out a shotgun and managed to shoot three of them. However Kapkan was able to escape the gas and beat him on the draw by a few seconds.

"Good on you, Max," Tachanka patted Kapkan's back. Kapkan felt himself blush. Fuze let out a giggle and Glaz glared at the rest of them.

"We see the Spetsnaz win four to three," Harry put down his stopwatch and faced the two teams. "Good job, both of you. Rest and tell the GIGN and GSG-9 are up next."

Smoke gave a tug on Sledge's shirt. The Scottish man turned around and asked, "Hey…"

The shorter man pulled his hand away, holding it up. He wanted to say something, but nothing came.

Both teams scattered and whispered amongst themselves like ships in the night.

Smoke sat in the locker room, freshly showered. He was partially dressed, in pants and a towel wrapped around his upper torso. His hands were grasped together, but still. Mute changed and ran out, hoping to tell Vigil how the stadium worked. Thatcher slapped Smoke's back. He too was fully dressed.

"Don't be hard on yourself, that's my job," He bent over to look into Smoke's eyes, 'We were scattered admittedly, but we did our best. We'll do better next time."

"You're awfully blasé about this," James replied curtly.

"It's a training mission, I know. I'm just wondering what's with you."

"It's…" He searched for the words or even the reason to say what he really needed, "Sorry, I've felt out of balance. I feel bloody weird."

"Care to explain?"

"Not right now," James went to his locker and put a shirt and jacket on, "Still thinking about it."

"Hm, well recharge, mate." With that, Thatcher walked out of the locker room. James languidly pulled up his bag. He stood at the mirror, slicking his hair back. In the stadium he felt somewhat better. He could at least take any Spetsnaz down without a problem. His gas grenades weren't defective. He could move right. But still his mind felt foggy. Like when he was in the cafeteria looking at the empty spot between Mike and Mark. Speaking of which, where was he?

He slammed his locker shut and spun his lock wildly. It was time to go, slinging the back onto his back and walking out. Whatever.

Seamus was just done showering. He rapidly dried himself off, an advantage of being bald. He then got dressed in sweatpants and his stadium jacket. Not forgetting his hat, he gave a wink in the mirror and took his stuff out of the locker too. Inside he knew the training exercise was at the stadium went tits up, but he knew they'll try again next time. He had a little concern about James though. Maybe some talking would help.

He found James sitting on one of the stadium benches.

"Oi," Sledge started, giving a large handwave, "What are you doing here, bloody chilly, innit?"

"'Allo Seamus," Smoke jolted up from his spot to see the larger man waving just beside him.

"Did I scare ya?"

"N-no…" James went on the defensive, "I meant, no you didn't startle me."

"Oh c'mon, mong, I can read you," Sledge sat down next to James, "I know the stadium situation was shite but don't take it too hard."

"…I know," A hint of offense came into his voice, "But I know my suggestion to stick together works."

"And you're thinking if we did stick together sooner, we wouldn't have our asses whooped by the Ruskies-"

"Yes!" Smoke gave a chopping motion with both of his hands, "But Mike ain't listening."

"I'm sure he'll come around. He always does," Sledge patted his back. A smile peeked out of James's face, "I mean we come around and do our best!"

"…Thanks," He gave a little giddy giggle. Sledge swore he saw him blush a bit.

"How about we go back inside, Mira's making paella!"

Dinner came and went. Mira's paella was the talk of the town. Multiple people got seconds, especially Sledge and Rook. Harry even loved it so much that he made multiple lunch packs with it. Banter and mirth spread throughout the cafeteria. Mozzie seemed much happier and Nomad was enjoying her time with Maverick.

"Hey Jack, I'm kicking your ass in Soul Caliber Six tonight!" Thermite bellowed to the bald American a table away.

"Not if I beat yours first, you cuck!" Pulse yelled back.

"Did you really have to say that?" Hibana admonished him.

"Yeah," Pulse gave a raspberry.

"Not if I start whooping your asses with Ivy first!" Castle joined in.

"I'll be coming in hot with my Siegfried," Blackbeard roared.

"I'll kick all of your asses with Taki so don't try me," Blitz hollered.

"Is this a tourney I'm hearing?" Marius asked.

"You bet your ass it will be!" Thermite says, "First place gets fifty dollars, second gets twenty-five, and third gets twenty!" Whoops and hollers echoed the cafeteria.

"…Young folks." Thatcher spat, "You gonna participate in this shit, Mark?" Mark was reading his book again.

"…Yeah." Mute answered without skipping a beat.

"And you, James, you're just like earlier," Thatcher turned to Smoke, "You've been quiet."

"…What of it?" Smoke snarled at him.

"Look I get today's training was shit, but it's not that bad."

"It's not…" He stopped himself, "We can try again next time."

"Hey, that paella was good. Don't worry."

"I have to thank her," He spotted Mira standing by Harry, getting up. Thatcher shrugged his shoulders as he watched Smoke saunter up to Mira.

"So it's 2 kilos of seafood and a liter of stock…" Mira spoke to Harry. She felt a finger tap her shoulder, and then turned to see Smoke. "Hello, James."

"Hi James, great job training today," Harry greeted.

"Thank you, Harry," Smoke turned to him and then Mira, "Thank you for the paella, Elena." He patted her shoulder and walked off.

"It was a joy to make it!" Mira called out to him.

Smoke shuffled out of the cafeteria and into the hallway. He meandered around until he saw a door with an exit sign. The stadium was a fully stocked place, but it was a complicated one. Silently pushing the door, he went outside.

Sledge was on the phone concerned. Smoke leaned against the wall.

"Peter, you have to listen to me," Sledge pleaded, hand on his hat. "No, no, no, don't say that. It's not like that, I promise."

Peter. That was one of Sledge's brothers. James wondered what was going on.

"No, the Soleimani incident doesn't apply to us. It only applies to the Yanks. We have no part in this. Yes, yes, the people are worried. Your job is to alleviate their fears with the truth."

So Sledge has been talking about our work to his brother. The one that's the MP.

"Look, you're my brother and you deserve to know the truth," Sledge continued, "Just stay calm. Good night, Peter." He hung up and put his phone in his pocket. Smoke emerged from the corner.

"So that's where you've been," Smoke said, indignantly pointing at him.

"This is not what it looks like," Sledge defended himself.

"Did you even eat?"

"I did, and I thanked her before I called my brother."

"Are you leaking shit to your MP brother?"

"The bloody hell I'm leaking shit," Sledge said offended.

"You know Harry tracks calls, right?"

"I know. This is common knowledge."

"That Soleimani's death is caused by Yanks and maybe possibly us too?"

"It's just Yanks!"

"Just because Yanks do shit doesn't mean it's our shit too!"

"But the people back home think it is. And like hell am I going to watch my brother pull our people into this."

"So you've been slipping out of lunch to leak surface level shit to your brother?" Smoke's eyes were wide at the realization.

"What is it with you?" Sledge asked, even more offended, "I didn't expect you to care about politics."

"It comes with the job! It's what gives us directions."

"Says the man who looks down on conventional ways of the world."

"Says the bloke that will use Team Rainbow secrets to keep his brother in office. You corrupt crony fuck."

Sledge gave a rapid slap to Smoke's face. It hit like a train to the point Smoke fell to the ground.

"Do. Not. Call. Me. A. Crony. I'm trying to comfort my brother and goddammit I will mention surface level information found in a Google search to help guide my people at home. You may spit on the conventional ways of information, but it's what some people only have. Try to challenge me to Harry and I'll show what true pain is."

Sledge walked away with a middle finger raised to the air, and eyes screwed on the chemist. His fists balled up.

Smoke sat there, only to rub his face a few minutes later. The stinging in his cheek didn't match the stinging in his heart. He felt a mix of indignance, hurt, humor, irony, and… Arousal? He immediately ran to the gym.

He was punching a punching bag like mad. He was in a wife beater, basketball shorts, and thin old boxing gloves. Sweat was dripping down his forehead, and the pounding noises resonated in the gym. He was the only one in the gym, just him and the Spotify playlist Lion recommended him. Between the barrage of punches, he gave a few hard kicks. As much Maestro didn't approve of kicking, but James enjoyed landing a few kicks.

However the image of Sledge making a powerful kick kept popping up into his mind. Seamus's powerful legs going up to kick a ball or a person just piqued James's interest for some reason. He knew of Seamus's history with rugby, how well toned and solid his legs and his accurate kicking. His legs felt the impact of the bag every time he kicked, so he kicked harder and harder to dull the impact. Only the impact of the bag on his legs intensified. Punching was the only relief he had, but he was starting to kick much more.

When he wasn't punching or kicking, he was bouncing statically. He bumped his fists together and kept going.

After a while, he saw the entrance of the gym light up and in went Maestro. "Interesting to see you here, James." He froze and suddenly felt the short window between dinner and boxing in his stomach. It went up his esophagus before he swallowed it back down.

"Had some things on my mind, gotta muck about before it gets me," Smoke answered, still looking at the punching bag.

"One of those days, huh?" Adriano put on his gloves and started with a few slow punches.

"Yeah…" Smoke gave a glance to him before making another punch. The loud slam made Adriano flinch.

"Heard you had a shit go at the stadium." He gave another punch.

"News travels fast, huh, Adriano?" He said between punches.

"We all lose sometimes."

"Hm."

"Don't let it get you down."

"Everyone's been bloody saying that!" Smoke landed a right jab.

"I mean, what's wrong then," Maestro stopped. The other exhaled harshly through his mouth and kept jabbing. The Italian read the room and said, "I'll leave you to it."

Both punched almost to midnight. After showering and changing back, both went to their separate bedrooms. Smoke crawled under the covers and looked at his phone. Nothing. No notifications or alerts. And nothing from Seamus.

Yet Seamus was the last thing he thought of before succumbing to sleep.

The sun yet rose again in the stadium. Seamus got up bright and early to do his ten kilometer run. He was robust at first but after six kilometers, he was starting to slow down. He cursed his age, cresting forty. Thatcher ran after him, only to have the other two join them much later.

Seamus brushed the sweat off his brow, observing the others running. Mute was rapid as usual. James, not so much. He admitted he was running to the best of his ability, but he seemed slower. Lately, the lad was out of emotional whack. Was he that mad about explaining an allied kill to his MP brother? He knew revealing secrets was a massive offense in Team Rainbow, but politics, war, and journalism went hand in hand. Usually, things like that didn't bother Porter. Porter expressed a distaste in all three but kept a keen eye for curiosity's sake or intelligence. Perhaps there was something else looming inside.

James Porter was an interesting person on the team. He was the most dangerous and forward person on the team. He was also the most individualistic person here. Yet was he actually concerned that he was slipping away at lunch and dinner? It confused him, but he had to snap out of that train of thought when…

Speak of the devil, James was tapping Sledge on the shoulder.

"Oi?" Sledge turned to see the smaller man, "Care to explain why you're running like old people screw?" He cocked an eyebrow in his direction.

"...Was boxing with Adriano last night after you slapped my shit," Smoke gave a half-truth.

"Something you want to tell me?"

"Uh, no, that's my explanation," He stared at him. Sledge was so tall and broad.

"Quit starin' and start lifitin' lad!" The taller man pointed at the weights and chuckled. They all started lifting weights, doing circuits. They went around in a circle, going from one rack to another. Sledge was on the bench press, and saw no one else there. Thatcher was on the ab station, Mute was holding dumbbells, and Smoke wasn't holding anything. "Care to spot me, Jimmy?"

James had to cringe at the nickname, but he felt a little giddy. He leapt forward to stand over the large man below him. "Sure, anything for you."

"What? That's much faster than your run!" Sledge gripped the barbell and looked back up at Smoke.

"Nevermind," Smoke muttered to himself. The counter started and Sledge started doing bench presses, "One…"

"Two…"

"Three…"

"Four…"

"Five, you're going kinda fast, Seamus…"

"Six, this is only sixty-five kilos, care to rack on more?"

"Sure," He ran over to put five kilogram plates on both sides, taking peeks at Sledge's massive pectorals. His chest was so large…

"Oi, did you clamp them? Don't want to wait like a bloody idiot."

"...Sorry," Smoke was blushing as he put the clamps on both sides, "Continue." He held his breath as the other kept doing reps. He noted the tight grips of his hands, the steady labored breathing, his hazel eyes, and the way his chest would wobble at every rep.

"Oof, oh shit!" Sledge noted his hands were off balance, "Are ye even spottin'?"

"Oh shit!" James forcibly pulled Seamus's hands apart on the barbell. His wrists were thick too.

"Thank you!" Seamus's voice had a hint of sarcasm. The circuit went on like normal, with the other taking guilty peeks between sets.

James was now in the lab, modifying his gas grenades. Possibly not too much to not violate the Geneva Convention, but enough for an extra kick. Lesion suggested a bit of sarin, and he now took that to heart. However, it was a minute amount of sarin, so he wore a filtered gas mask, gloves, and a lab coat. He had a beaker of his regular gas solution and a smaller beaker of sarin. He was using a dropper to transfer the sarin to the gas solution. He had multiple grenades of varying concentrations, starting with a regular grenade and some controls. After bottling them, he wrapped up each in tape and rearranged the wires. He then put them in a suitcase and turned up the ventilation. He then disposed of his PPE and left in his regular armor.

"So you decided to take my advice?" Lesion accompanied him to the testing room.

"Might as well, can't muck about too much," Smoke held the detonator in his hands, sticking the negative grenade on the dummy and watching the gas chromatograph. He pressed the button and observed no coloration on the dummy.

"...So scientific," Lesion gave a smirk, toothpick bobbing in the corner of his mouth.

"Science is science regardless of being in school or not," He gave a chuckle. Gathering enough information, he threw the first control and repeated the process.

"Fair," The Hong Kong native cooed at the first control, "Hm, seems like we're getting somewhere."

"We are. We killed that mouse over there."

"Ohoho!"

"Let's see when we add sarin," He threw a grenade with the lowest sarin concentrate and detonated it. More surrounding mice died.

"Potent!"

"Let's kick it up a notch then," Smoke was about to throw the next lowest grenade before he saw Sledge and Mira bursting through the door.

"No! You leave my Caber alone!" Sledge was gripping his hammer and yelling.

"Capullo! I only want to help!" Mira ran to grab it but was blocked by the man.

"No you aren't. This is state-of-the-art blacksmithing, this is perfect as it is!"

"I want to make it better!"

"There is no better, Elena!"

"SEAMUS!" Smoke charged away to push them out of the door. Lesion picked up the detonator and quizzically observed the three. He closed the door. Seamus looked confused and Mira more annoyed. Smoke tossed his gloves and mask to the side. "Didn't you read the bloody sign?"

"I had no idea there was a sign," Seamus replied with concern, "I was just trying to get away."

"It said noxious gases! I'm testing shit!"

"I'm sorry," Sledge remarked.

"Puta los Dios, I'm sorry too," Mira apologized as shock settled in, "First for pushing you into an R&D facility and badgering you to change your hammer."

"That ain't hard wasn't it?" He put the hammer on his shoulder.

"...I guess," Mira walked away, "Perhaps I should help the others."

"The fook's wrong with ye?" Sledge asked Smoke, who was still trembling and looking up at him.

"Do ye know what lab safety is?" Smoke asked back. Why did he feel so weak all the sudden?

"You're not all safety-feely usually, 'ave you been yourself?"

"I…" James doubled over and vomited.

"'Kay what the fook?" Seamus picked him up, wiped him, and ran to Doc's office.

Doc put James on a cot and monitored him. He didn't hook him up to anything, but he sternly sat down next to him after administering him some Benadryl and water. Seamus stood next to him, looking down on the both of them.

"James, Seamus said you were at the R&D facility. Did you use any chemicals?" Doc asked, arms crossed sitting on a stool beside him.

"Just a little sarin," James said casually despite his groggy state.

"A little sarin?" Doc repeated, "James, you know that goes against the Geneva Convention! One mustn't use chemical warfare on missions like these. We're trying to reduce harm not make more! It's only a miracle I've had to use emergency oxygen on you."

"All's fair in love and war," James rolled his eyes, "Besides I used an amount below 10 ppm and I threw my protective gear away so I'm confused as to why this happened."

"Residuals," Seamus replied quickly.

"You bein' a little smartass, huh?" James snapped back.

"He's got a point, you know," Doc replied.

A few more minutes and Doc released the both of them. They were rushed outside to the battle stadium. For fresh air, of course. They sat the ledge on one of the higher floors, letting their legs hang. They let silence hover between them, as they watched the empty seats. Sledge held a watchful gaze on Smoke, taking in his crass yet handsome features. His dark hair was slicked back, but some strands hung over his forehead. He was awfully slim but still built like a standard SAS member.

Inside, Smoke felt so confused. He just deliberately pushed Sledge out of the R&D room, and he usually doesn't mind visitors when he runs tests. And damned well he's going to give them a good demonstration. But not this time. But he felt so anxious about doing it, not out of contempt for broken safety rules. And he knew it wasn't the sarin, because he used so little. Was it something else? Was the anxiety overcoming him?

"Sorry to interrupt your quality time, but it's high tide for a discussion," Harry showed up behind them.

"Are we in trouble?" Sledge asked him.

"No, but there are enough incidents that we need to have a talk," Harry brushed his hair away from his face and squatted down. Smoke's eyes widened and he broke out into a sweat.

"Well, I've heard from Adriano there was a slap mark on your cheek, James," Harry started on Smoke.

"He's bloody observant then, Seamus here slapped me," Smoke gave a quizzical look at Sledge.

"Violence among operatives isn't accepted, Seamus," Harry admonished him.

"I can explain, James was accusing me of leaking intel to my MP brother-"

"Leaking intel is highly unacceptable and could warrant a suspension. This is a serious matter." Harry sat down besides Seamus, "Mind you if you start the story?"

"Sure, I was out calling my brother on the Soleimani issue. He's an MP and the people back home are worried. I simply told him this is an American matter and that not us Brits have to worry. In comes James who's been eavesdropping and accusing me of leaking intel to keep my brother in office. He calls me a crony and I took offense to that so I hit him."

"Interesting," Harry kept a poker face, "James, explain your side of the story."

After a slow inhale, James started, "I noticed that Seamus has been gone or at least leaving early at meal times. He never does that, so I decided to sneak out and observe. I hear his phone call with his brother and then noticed him talking about Soleimani. The fact he was saying it was a purely American effort made me think he was omitting global involvement. Which I assumed was leaking by omission. Then I called Seamus a crony and he took offense to that and slapped me."

Harry stared at both of them for a few minutes, figuring out what to say and taking notes. After a few notes, he then said, "It seems like it's been resolved for the most part. And as for clarification, we have no involvement in the Soleimani issue. Any discussion of the finer details is not a leak of any kind." Sledge gave a subtle fist pump and Smoke blushed. "However I think there should be some apologies because both of you are clearly in the wrong. Seamus, apologize for hitting James. James, apologize for accusing Seamus of an infraction."

"I'm sorry for hitting you, James," Seamus looked to James.

"I'm sorry for accusing you of leaking intel, Seamus." James replied.

"Good," Harry clapped his hands, "Moving on. The next thing I want to address is the R&D facility drama earlier." He then paused, "Good job on you, James. I've spoken to Mira and she apologized. Now that I think about it, there's more to talk about amongst yourselves. Have a good day." He walked away, leaving the two hanging at the ledge.

Things were silent again between the two. Birds flew around the stadium. It was sunny but not warm. Outside it was colder, and there was a slight wind. They were distant from the noise of the surrounding city. It was alright for January. Mozzie rode around in a forklift, singing to himself songs from Men at Work.

A bird flew into the stadium, landing on the very top of the building. It chirped sweetly.

"I didn't expect you to worry about me," Seamus broke the silence, "Er, notice that I was gone."

"I did," James was curt.

"I also didn't expect you to be politically aware enough to think I was leaking stuff."

"I learn my own way. Not from fake news."

"Of course you do." Seamus gave a smirk, "Not that I expect you to have morals over information."

"It wasn't that."

"You actually care about your information? What happened to it's free data, man," Sledge gave a cheap imitation of Smoke. Smoke chuckled and gave him a playful smack.

"I mean your brother's a politician-"

"He's not that bad, he's honest and reads through things."

"Yeah yeah yeah, that's what they all say..."

"No really, he's not a Tory. He gets minorities and tries to include them, but he knows about their flaws. Or at least tries to give refugees a fair chance rather them shutting them out."

"By policy and not action..."

"Really, he tries to get real, workable policies in effect..."

"Is he trying to give handouts?"

"No, he's not that kind of politician either. He doesn't want to play the identity game-"

"I don't want to either!" Smoke raised his hands in the air, "The problem is these days that everyone tries to play it and it mucks everything up! Take for example the queers, instead of being people that happen to be queer, they put being queer first. I mean I work my hardest to be a competent person that happens to be queer and not a queer person..." He then slowed down, eyes darting left and right, "Oh my god…"

"Hey, hey," Sledge leaned over and started patting Smoke's shoulder, "Breathe, it's alright, I'm here."

"I'm queer. I'm a fucking queer," Smoke continued, staring numbly.

"Yeah, and?" Sledge looked back quizzically, "You're not any different. You may like something else, but that doesn't change you."

"I know, but we went through a 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell' era, Seamus," His voice went up an octave.

"Don't be scared," Sledge leaned over to hug him, "It's alright, shhhh shhhh... It ain't gonna matter. You're still you."

"It's gonna matter soon," Smoke hugged back, silently wiping the tears from his eyes and taking deep breaths.

"What do you mean?"

"You're the reason I found out I'm..." He stopped upon the other picking him up and carrying him Cinderella style.

"Let's take this elsewhere."

They were now in Sledge's room with the door locked. Sledge put Smoke down on the bed. He then sat next to him. "Continue."

Smoke continued, "In one of the calls I overheard that you might transfer home. And that made me really sad for some reason."

"Oh... That. It was a doomsday thing if World War 3 had started, but I don't think it will happen." Sledge scratched the back of his head.

"...Thank goodness. Then it got me thinking, you mean a lot to me."

"You mean a lot to me too."

"No, I mean. I mean... Like," Smoke fumbled through his words, "Shite... Like I think I love you. I know I shouldn't say that but I like you a lot, like more than friends."

"No, you should say it," Sledge nudged closer, "Come to think of it, I like you a lot too. In that same way. It's been weird, but I guess it's relieving to know that you're concerned that I've been slipping away to take calls."

"Oh stop it!" Smoke gave a playful push, "It isn't like that!"

"It is!" Sledge gave a playful push back.

"That was the scariest few days I've felt," Smoke leapt to give Sledge a huge hug, "I'm glad this was the best case scenario."

"I'm happy too..." Sledge replied wistfully, pulling the other lower onto his lap. He started with a gentle kiss of the forehead and stroked his hair. Smoke then went in for a kiss on the lips, hugging tighter. They shared a passionate kiss for a few minutes. The smaller tried to push the other down, but the other pulled him away, putting a finger to his lips, "Let's take it slow."

The next coming days delivered peace. Sledge starting sitting at the table during mealtimes. Stadium exercises were far more successful, with the SAS sticking together. Sledge gave his support to Smoke's grenade experiments and Smoke spotted Sledge better during weightlifting. On their recreational time, they went boxing, shooting, getting ice cream in the city, and fixing each other's gadgets.

People started noticing. Thatcher just shrugged his shoulders and nodded, "Something in the water, Mark?"

Mark poked his head out of his book and remarked, "Two people learned something." Thatcher was confused.

Maestro gave Smoke a thumbs up. Lesion smirked at the new couple every time they were together.

"Ooooh, Porter's in love!" Lesion taunted. Smoke just flipped him off.

Harry even noticed. He wrote down that both of them improved after that talk. Everyone was starting to gradually notice as they eased into their relationship. While Smoke and Sledge were comfortable, they were against any PDA except hand-holding. Clash thought it was kind of adorable.

It all came down to a night after another successful stadium run. They were clean and dressed and went to hang out in Sledge's room. Smoke rolled over on his side while Sledge sat up. The smaller one then climbed onto Sledge's lap and nuzzled his large chest. He buried his face in it, hugging him rather close.

"You quite like doin' that, don't ye?" Sledge remarked, patting the other's head. Smoke didn't reply, still buried his chest. He started to straddle him, feeling the larger man's thick thighs against his slim toned ones. "Kinda like how swole I am, huh?"

Smoke finally lifted his face from Sledge's chest, answering, "Yes, I do like that you're very swole and built. I like that veeeery much." He purred, now putting a hand on the Scot's wide hip. "You may be solid, but you're still kinda cuddly." He looked up at his hazel eyes. Sledge gave a hearty laugh, bringing him in even closer.

"Goodness, you really like my body, don't you?"

"I do. I can't help it," He put his other hand on his other hip, "God, you're so thicc."

"Oh stop!" Sledge cringed, giving him a playful yet hard smack on the face with a pillow, "That's awful!" Both started laughing as Smoke fell sideways off of his lap. The Scot used the opportunity to get up and lock the door, and then sit back down again. He kicked his shoes off and pulled off the other's. He then forcefully pinned Smoke down by the hands with his thick forearms. "You didn't expect that?"

"Oh I did," Smoke said with a smirk, "And I've been waiting for this." Without hesitation, Sledge gave a forceful French kiss, pinning Smoke further into the bed. Smoke thrust his tongue against his, gripping his back and forcing his chest up. He then grabbed the neck of his coat and flipped him over, with him now on top. His nails now dug into Sledge's hands as he bit his lips. "Don't think I'm a pillow princess," They separated to breathe.

"You might reconsider," Sledge flipped him over onto his back and continued kissing. Their hands were stuck in the air, them pushing in equal force. Their tongues were rubbing together, but they separated to breathe and moan. He let out of one hand to unzip the other's jacket. He then started to rub his chest and squeeze a nipple. Smoke shivered strongly and threw his head back on the bed. He let out a muffled scream. "Heh."

"You arsehole!" Smoke let out a lustful scream. He ripped Sledge's jacket off and twisted both of his nipples. Sledge let out a roar and pinned him down again. Instead of kissing him, he started to nibble hard on his neck. Smoke bit his lip and let out yelps. Sledge held his hands in a vice grip. People think Sledge is innocent, but he's clever. He's nibbles and bit everywhere on his chest and shoulders but his nipples. Smoke bucked his hips in response, but he ignored it.

Reorienting himself, Smoke broke free to jump Sledge. He took off his jacket too. He then forcefully bit Sledge back on the neck and chest. Sledge shivered and exhaled through his teeth. Smoke was just breathing in every detail of his body, something he had always been fond of ever since they first met. Sledge was a large and wide man, muscular with a large chest and defined muscles. His musk drew him closer. Feeling his pants grow tighter, Smoke started to undo the other's, snaking his hand down there. He stopped biting to start sucking on his nipples.

Sledge didn't move at all, making a pleasant growl. Smoke continued, using his free hand to undo his belt and pants. Sliding out of them, he began to stroke himself. What he didn't expect was that he was shaking out of sheer pleasure. He usually could control himself, but this time it felt amplified. He swore he'd cum if he kept going like this.

"James," Seamus left out a wistful moan, "You're obviously buckling there, let me help you out." He picked him up and removed his pants and underwear. He removed his own pants and underwear too. He then grabbed James's thighs and pulled them to his head. Taking out some gun lube from the drawer, he squirted some on his fingers. He used his lubricated fingers to prod and feel his entrance. The other hand he stroked his wanting erection.

"Ah!" James broke with a moan, immediately covering his mouth. He was shuddering at every prod and stroke, trying not to let it all out. He was already leaking precum. Sledge gave a chuckle as he saw his friend writhe and moan in pleasure. "You think, ah, you're so funny, ah!"

"I am funny. It's so cute to watch you struggle, James."

"Up yours," James muttered as he suddenly got up despite Seamus being inside him. He started bouncing on him. He was at full mast with his hands on his friend's abs. "Even your fingers are so fucking huge."

"There's something bigger, you know." He withdrew his slicked fingers unceremoniously. James let out a little whine, only to realize seconds later with his eyes wide open. Seamus took out the lube again, only to apply it to his own erection, which was far bigger at full mast. Much bigger than what James anticipated. It was thick, throbbing, and straight. The moment Seamus was done, James slowly let himself on.

He winced, "You are so bloody huge." He was twitching all the way down to the base, letting a few grunts and sighs. "Fuckin' A…"

Sledge winced in return, "Jesus fuck, you're so tight. You're a madlad to ride me." He laid down, a hand to the other's hip.

"Damn right, I'm a madlad," Smoke agreed, "Now watch me." After whispering that to his face, he started to ride him. It was slow at first, getting used to the other's girth. He gritted his teeth, feeling both a mix of pleasure and pain. After getting used to initial length, he started to bounce. He let out another moan.

Sledge laid there. The feeling was indescribable. He felt great with previous lovers, but not like this. Smoke started to speed up, moaning more frequently. He started to writhe and throw his head back more. He was tight, fast, and aggressive, with the constant slapping sounds. He was also mesmerized by his rapidly bouncing member.

"Jesus, I shouldn't be this close but I am," Smoke growled, continuously slamming himself, "This is addicting but I got something else in mind." He got up dizzily, and walked over to his jacket on the floor. He pulled out a small piece of metal and pinned down Sledge in the same intensity. He then grabbed the lube and applied it to himself and Sledge's entrance. After he was done, he revealed what he was carrying: a butterfly knife. He gave a shallow cut and shuddered, leaking way more. He then flashed it to Seamus, "Open up, ye bastard."

"Heh," Sledge gave a cunning smile. That smile faded into a wide-eyed shock as Smoke started thrusting. He didn't even start slow, enjoying the resistance. At first Sledge tightened up at the sight of the knife but his combat instincts kicked in and he relaxed greatly. Smoke kept thrusting at the same intensity as he rode. Both of them were moaning and groaning, enjoying the frenzied rhythm between them. It was the loudest Sledge had ever been, and it was just reaching into Smoke even further. Smoke threw the knife away the deeper he went. His thighs shook with every thrust. He was burning, but his pride wouldn't let him give in. To muffle himself, he began to suck on Sledge's chest again. "You seem awfully addicted to my chest."

Smoke started slurping. Sledge cradled his head and pushed it closer. He let out some pleased sighs and grunts. At the particularly hard thrusts involving the whole length, he let out a moan.

It was a sweaty, chaotic mess and neither of them would trade it for anything else.

Smoke began to seize during thrusts and Sledge had enough. Sledge sat upright and grabbed Smoke. He pulled him away and set him at the edge of the bed. He then whispered, "You're gonna get fucked and you're gonna like it." The Scot then started to thrust into him.

"Nothing I can't handle," Smoke purred. His tune changed however when Sledge started to use his entire length. "OHMYGODWHATTHEFUCK-"

Sledge only gave a belly laugh as he blasted Smoke from behind. He had a vice grip on his hips while the other gripped the edge of the bed for dear life.

"Holy fuck, ow, ow, ow, ow, Ow, OW, OW!" Smoke started to scream, knowing his pain threshold has been crossed. Despite his pleas, Sledge didn't slow down. In fact, he went faster and harder. Smoke was in a daze, not sure if he was in pain or in ecstasy. He wasn't sure to tell him to stop or to keep going. He tried to say something but moans, groans, and grunts came out.

As a man of variety, Sledge changed it up a bit. He lifted his partner in his bed, folded his knees to his shoulders, and did the mating press. He started to thrust from the top, feeling their balls touch. Smoke was still silent save his usual sounds. Sledge was pleased with this, and he wanted to have as much fun as possible.

Despite being a gentle giant, he was rough with his previous lovers when they demanded so. With James, he was rough from the get-go. He knew he like it rough and wasn't shy. He looked into his icy blue eyes and saw they were glazed over. He thought it strange because he didn't climax yet. Neither of them did.

And Sledge wanted to change that. He changed from mating press into doggy style, but Smoke was still slumped on the bed. Then he proceeded to fuck like a tank, using his whole length but harder than ever. It was only then Smoke snapped out of his daze. Smoke now started to doubt if he able to take anymore. But it didn't feel painful anymore.

Instead it was wave after wave of pleasure hitting him deep.

Smoke started to prop himself up and thrust back with his hips. Sledge noticed and gripped his hair with one hand.

"Destroy my arsehole, Seamus!" Smoke screamed something for the first time in a while.

Granting that request, Sledge went over the edge. With fingers deep in scalp and hips, he gave one last momentous slam and came inside him. In response, Smoke came screaming in a mix of pain, relief, pleasure, and ecstasy. He wobbled and collapsed on the bed. He let out a few large ropes of cum. Cum was dripping from his back end too, where Seamus came in.

"Was I too rough on you mate?" Sledge whispered, tossing out the dirty sheets and replacing it with new ones. He climbed into bed to be the big spoon.

"...No. But careful, I might get addicted," Smoke quipped, softly muttering before letting himself sleep enveloped by his new significant other.

"Hello Stadium, I'm Tony Beesechurger with the sports news today. Multiple memorials for Kobe Bryant have spread today and globally as we mourn this basketball legend. Over to politics, we have Nigel speaking."

"Thank you Tony, or as I call, love, containment efforts for the coronavirus have been improved by the four Team Rainbow operatives: James Porter, Gustave Kateb, Alexsandr Senaiev, and Elizabeth Cohen. Fortunately, that's all for today. As we say here as MSMBS, no news is the greatest news!"

Both waved goodbye to the camera, now panning out to a fully filled stadium of spectators. Sledge and Smoke moved to the field from the overhang, containing the sun with their entwined hands.

* * *

A/N: Okay this was a long ass time I legit wrote something that wasn't a private RP (and those aren't long). Let me say I had a lotta ideas in my mind and things I wanted to experiment with. Like some ideas that were bad on a set of people but better on others. I play a shitton of Sledge but Smoke is growing on me. I hope you've enjoyed this experimental slow-burn marathon of a one-shot! Now I want some goddamn Oreos. R&R!


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